Judge James E. HortonIf the
tale
of the Scottsboro Boys can be said to have heroes, there is no person
more
deserving of the label than James E. Horton, the judge who presided
over
Haywood Patterson's second trial in Decatur. Judge Horton's
decision
to set aside the verdict and death sentence of Haywood Patterson, made
despite warnings that ordering a new trial for Patterson would end his
career as an elected circuit judge, was a remarkable act of courage and
principle.

James Horton's father was an Alabama probate judge, planter, and
former
slaveholder; his mother was the daughter of a confederate
general.
Horton gave up pursuit of a medical degree for a law degree, which he
received
from Cumberland University in Lebanon, Tennessee in 1899. He
entered
private practice, but left it in 1910 for a six-year career in the
Alabama
legislature. In 1922, he was elected circuit judge. When
the
Scottsboro cases were transferred to his Decatur courtroom in 1933,
Horton
was in the fifth year of his second six-year term.

The announcement that the gracious and easygoing Horton would take
on
the controversial Scottsboro case was generally greeted with
enthusiasm.
Alabama papers praised the judge's "unusually equable nature, great
legal
ability, and fairness." Prosecutor Thomas Knight said that he
thought
Horton "would make an excellent judge."

During the course of the contentious trial of Haywood Patterson,
Horton
rarely raised his soft, conversational voice. Although his
rulings
neither consistently favored the prosecution or the defense, Horton
made
it abundantly clear thate he stood on the side of fair process and fair
treatment for all, regardless of color. That alone made Horton a
liberal by Alabama standards. Horton raised many local eyebrows
when
he warmly shook the hands of two black reporters who he had helped
secure
seats in his courtroom. His full anger only showed once in the
trial.
On the third day of the trial, after hearing reports of plans for a
lynching,
the judge raised his voice to a near shout and denounced would-be
lynchers
as "cowardly murderers." Horton, saying that he had "absolutely
no
patience with the mob spirit," announced that he had ordered police
guards
to shoot to kill if necessary in defense of the black prisoners.

Horton, along with virtually every other white person in Alabama,
initially
assumed that the Scottsboro defendants were probably guilty, but began
to have doubts after listening to Price's contradiction-riddled
testimony.
His doubts grew to a conviction that the defendants were innocent after
hearing the medical testimony of one examining physician, Dr.
Bridges,
and meeting privately with a second, Dr. John Lynch. Dr. Lynch,
initially
on the state's witness list, was dropped at the last moment because,
the
prosecution said, his testimony would only be redundant. Lynch
approached
Horton shortly thereafter, and the two talked in the men's room of the
Decatur courthouse, with a bailiff guarding the door. Lynch told
Horton that he was convinced the girls were lying, and when he told
them
that directly, they merely laughed at him. Horton urged Lynch to
testify, but did not order him to do so, respectful of the young
doctor's
concern that testimony in favor of the defense would end any chance he
might have to build a successful medical career in northern Alabama.

On June 22, 1933, when Horton convened court in his hometown of
Athens,
Alabama, there was little optimism in the defense camp that their
motion
to set aside Patterson's guilty verdict would be granted. Horton,
however, shocked those assembled by announcing that he would grant the
motion on the ground that the jury's verdict was not supported by
substantial
evidence. In a careful, point-by-point review of the medical
testimony
and that offered by other prosecution witnesses, Horton found Price's
testimony
to be "not only uncorroborated, but it also bears on its face
indications
of improbabilty and is contradicted by other evidence."

In May of 1934, Horton, who had been unopposed in his previous
election
to the bench, faced two primary opponents. He finished second in
the primary, then ran hard in the general election, but lost 9,416 to
6,856.
No one doubted but that his defeat was attributable entirely to his
decision
in the Scottsboro case. Horton retired from politics, and devoted
his remaining years to private practice and his plantation. When
asked about his decision in a 1966 interview, Horton quoted what he
said
was a phrase often-repeated in the Horton family, "fiat justicia
ruat
colelum" -- let justice be done though the heavens may fall.
Horton died in 1973 at the age of ninety-five.